In the City of Ideas : BY Panagiota Zaloni

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In the City of Ideas


I exile myself in the City

Of the golden fire

With its elegant paths,

Its holy choruses in the squares,

Its enthusiasms and wishes,

Its calm harmonies,

That release beams of emotions

And charm.

I have exile myself in the City of Love,

In the “City of Ideas”

I had to live.


Write… write…

With millions of hands,

With voices that convulse,

With voices that they rip,

The flesh of soul

I search every night

To find what I lost

And what did not achieve even.

Invisible commands

Push me to write.

I obey.


Am not lost in the fogs,

Nor tightened with the un-needed

In others cities…

         Panagiota Zaloni


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